As the Dust Settles
by EllenR
Summary: Commander Shepard is left gravely injured after the events in the Crucible. One Shot, Female Shepard, Shepard/Garrus pairing. Rated T for language.


Shepard gasped.

A dry, shuddering gasp that set her throat on fire, dragging clouds of dust into her lungs. Her chest hitched. She coughed up a thick, greyish phlegm flecked with black. Flecked with blood. Her head throbbed as her eyes tried to adjust to the murky darkness. Her chest trembled as another breath rattled in. She frantically turned her head from side to side, peering through the dusty haze. The acrid smell of burning flesh assaulted her nose. Another breath fought its way into her lungs. Tender ribs protested.

Shepard attempted to pull herself upright to examine her surroundings, only to bang her forehead on a fallen beam. She fell backwards into the rubble, furiously sorting through frantic thoughts. Her sight swam, her head pounded. She dragged in another breath, burning her throat raw. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her fevered heartbeat. The pain hit. Slowly at first, a threatening throb growing in magnitude, before overpowering her in an all-consuming wave. Her torso was blistered, her armour melted to fuse with the raw skin in some areas. Her face seared. She reached up a hand, blackened with dried blood and dirt, to feel the bleeding wounds. Tracing her finger along the tender edges, the pattern was identical to the scars she had previously bore, a memento of her first death.

She shifted to the side, attempting to see the damage done to her legs. A support column had fallen, trapping the lower half of her right leg. Her left thigh was caught under some rubble, but was freed with some coercion. She attempted to push the support column off of her shin. Even had she been stronger, it was stuck fast. She lay back, frustrated, and tried to wiggle her toe. She knew not whether the feeling below was wishful thinking or obliging limbs.

A low groan escaped her mangled throat as distorted images of war attacked her. She coughed again, feeling the blood-flecked spittle roll down her chin. She fumbled around her, pushing rubble away from her, trying to shift beams to clear a path out of her make-shift tomb. Dust fell around her, sticking to the blood, softening the angry red to grey. A piece of rubble overhead gave way to probing fingers, chips of mortar falling down her neck. She reached up, scrabbling to deepen the indent she had made. Her fingers came away bleeding, but so did the obstruction. She pulled and scraped at the blockage until, exhausted, she fell back and dim, hazy light fell upon her face. She looked around her.

The Crucible had fallen down as the Reapers were obliterated, and she with it. Surrounding her in each direction were piles of rubble and fallen beams. She was encased within, buried alive. The hitch in her breath had little to do with the pain. Reluctantly, she surveyed her injuries. Her body was battered, with bulges of splintered bone pushing towards the skin's surface along her arms and legs. Her armour was destroyed from the Reaper's laser. She was thankful she couldn't see the pungent, burning flesh underneath. Her skin was barely seen for the layers of smeared blood. Her leg was trapped under the support beam without much hope of recovery.

"Shit". Her voice came through thick and choked, but it did not betray the fear building up inside her. It felt good to give voice to the anger and fear. "Shit", she said again, ignoring the searing burn along her windpipe. She tugged uselessly at her leg to no avail.

She slumped back, weakened by the exertion. Looking up at the dust motes circling above her head in the dim light, her vision swam, her eyelids drooped. The exhaustion of the last few hours weighed upon her every limb and she was gone.

...

The steady sound of a heart rate monitor beeped in her ear as she lay. Her fingertips felt starched sheets beneath them. Low murmurings flew above her head. She attempted to open her eyes, check where she was, but her world remained dark. Confused, she attempted to twitch her hand. Nothing. She felt for her feet. Nothing. She heard the beeping beside her grow quicker as panic rose in her. She couldn't move, couldn't defend herself, where was she? The beeping grew frantic and the murmurs rose to commanding orders. Cold swept up her arm, clouding her mind. She slipped away from the noise into a deep sleep.

When her consciousness returned, she felt a hand on her arm. She wanted to tense, but her limbs made no response. She heard the monitor announce the beat of her heart, and two voices.

"I wonder if she can hear us?" said the first voice.

"Her body has more than likely shut down. She will probably not have any form of conscious thought for several days while her body attempts to handle the trauma." answered a second, familiar voice. "Hand me that phial".

"But if she were semi-conscious, she must be awfully bored. She's been here three days now, and all she gets to listen to is people working on her calling out her vital signs." She gave a nervous titter of laughter.

A door opened to Shepard's left. Footsteps entered.

"Ms. Lawson? The Captain asked that you speak with him. He's in the Comms room."

The familiar voice sighed. "This had better be important." Miranda left, following the footsteps quickly leaving the room. The nurse remained. She cleared her throat nervously.

"Umm... hi? I wonder if you can hear me? Oh, don't be daft, of course she can't." The voice's owner paced around the room. Shepard longed to rise out of the bed, demanding answers. Where was she? What had happened? Where was her ship? Her crew? Garrus?

"I'm Louise, by the way" said the voice tentatively. "Just in case you can hear... oh, forget it." She began pacing again, before her footsteps stopped suddenly. She quickly crossed the room, and Shepard heard her fingers tap against a keyboard. The sound of the ANN began playing from speakers nearby.

"Just in case you do get bored" said Louise.

"There have been few updates regarding the medical state of Commander Shepard. Her condition has been described to reporters as 'critical' by Alliance representatives, and her location has not been disclosed. Her body was pulled from the remains of the Citadel three days ago when one ship broke from the Alliance fleet and the crew began the search.  
>Commander Shepard's crew and ship, the Normandy, have disappeared since the destruction of the Reapers and have yet to be found. No evidence has been discovered regarding the fate of the ship."<p>

Shepard's heart monitor gave a worried stutter at the mention of her crew. Louise inhaled sharply, then laughed nervously.

"Don't be stupid, Lou, of course she can't hear." A door opened, and her footsteps left the room. A new bulletin began.

"Good evening, this is Iris Dunnigan. There have been many questions raised regarding how the many species involved in the recent war are to recover in the aftermath. I am joined here tonight by Admiral Hackett.

"Good evening Iris." Shepard was shocked by how strained his voice sounded. He was tired, weak.

"Admiral, what is the military prioritising in these immediate days after the destruction of the Reapers?"

"Our immediate focus is keeping the peace. We have a lot of different species stranded here on Earth. The destruction of the Mass Relays has come at quite a surprise. Everyone wants to return home, see their families again and start rebuilding their lives. Being told that that must be delayed momentarily has not gone down well with a lot of people. Fights are breaking out on the streets as people are kept in close quarters.

"Admiral, there have been many questions as to how other species' will return to their home worlds now that the use of Mass Relays is no longer an option. How is this situation likely to be resolved?"

"There has been much talk of how this problem is dealt with. Work on the Mass Relays is already underway. All personnel previously involved in work on the Crucible are attempting to piece together what information we have. However, we had previously only ever discovered the relays, never built one. There are no blueprints available; we are working from scratch with this one. Many races with home worlds relatively nearby are wondering whether it is worthwhile returning to their systems using FTL travel. They plan to adopt a Migrant Fleet of sorts for the journey, like what the Quarians have... I'm sorry, what they had."

Hackett was quiet for a moment. Shepard felt the guilt well up inside her. Tali. Her death had been for nothing. She couldn't even save the Geth, in the end. Hackett cleared his throat.

"As for races with home worlds a little further afield, they are likely to stay put on Earth and wait for the completion of the Mass Relay. We must simply hope that survivors on the other end are undertaking similar work. In the meantime we shall find living arrangements for the Elcor and Asari."

"I'm afraid that's all we have time for tonight. Thank you for your time Admiral. This is Iris Dunnigan."

"Thank you Iris."

Shepard lay in her pool of confusion and grief. This war had brought so much loss. The Quarians, the Geth, the millions on Earth, on Palaven, on Thessia. The Normandy. Why was there no news? How could the ship at the forefront of the attack simply vanish? Her thoughts swam, pulling her deeper and deeper under until she succumbed to darkness.

...

Shepard swam in and out of a haze of drugs and pain. She would listen to the ANN, or hear Miranda report on her pessimistic condition, but mostly she lay in her pit of darkness, oblivious to her surroundings.

"Riots broke out in central London today as a group of seven individuals, including four Krogan, attempted to raid a food bank. Shots were fired by Alliance military personnel, resulting in the death of one of the Krogan. Officials say that the other six members of the gang have remained unidentified.  
>"Food supplies are short. It is unacceptable that food banks be raided. There is little to spare as it is, actions like those displayed today must be met with a firm hand and no tolerance."<br>"The people are starving. We are trapped here on this world, and everywhere you look is death! All we want to do is to feed what little family we have left with us."  
>Officials say that the remaining gang members will be caught and tried."<p>

"News just in – A small ship, rumoured to be the Normandy, has been spotted entering the Sol System. Scanners have picked up signals from a small warship consistent with those recorded from the Normandy. There have been no reports of sightings of the Normandy since its disappearance one month ago during the Battle of the Reapers."  
>"We picked up the signal and couldn't believe the data. The Normandy emits very specific signals when not cloaking itself, and we quickly noticed these signature signs. However, from the data we're getting, the ship is clearly in a rough way, its emissions are very erratic and the scans we've run from here have shown the ship in poor repair. No readings have been received regarding the crew as of yet, but the predictions are pretty bleak considering the state of the ship."<p>

Shepard's heart quickened, causing her monitor to beep worriedly. She strained to open her eyes, throw away the drips and tubes connecting her to her machines. She longed to move, jump out of her bed and greet the Normandy and crew. She needed to embrace Garrus again, show him that she kept her promise. She had held onto her life, she needed to know that he had done the same.

Miranda came in the door to investigate the lively heartbeat.

"Calm down! What's gotten into you?" She hurriedly opened drawers. Shepard heard her remove the top from a syringe. She tried to struggle, to wake up. Her limbs refused to respond. She felt the cold move up her arm, but she was powerless against the wave of sleep that hit her. Her heartbeat gradually slowed.

...

She awoke to shouting from outside her room.

"Where is she?!"

Garrus' voice was furious, but unmistakable. Her heart leapt. He had made it through. A minute grain of grief was lifted from her.

"You can't be here, she's too delicate!" Miranda's fury matched his.

Her door burst open and his footsteps faltered. Shepard could hear his breathing catch and craved nothing more than to rise from her prison and hold his face in her hands, to see him alive once more. A distressed keen came from his subvocals. He crossed the room to stand beside her and took her hand in his. Her hand refused to squeeze his.

"What happened?" he asked after a lengthy silence.

"Where do I start?" Miranda's voice betrayed her weariness. "She got hit by a reaper's beam. I don't know how she survived, but she came away with severe burns, particularly along her torso. In some places her armour had... fused... with the skin. We've been able to treat most of these areas."

Garrus held her hand tighter.

"Garrus, we don't know what happened to her inside the Crucible. The scars on her face, we don't know what they are. The best we can guess is that the cryogenics we implanted in her before were burned from her, but we don't know how that would happen." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "The rest we are able to deal with. The broken bones, the punctured lungs, all the injuries from the collapse of the Crucible, they're all manageable. The cryogenics were what were keeping her alive after we rebuilt her, though, and without them she's not far from death."

Garrus gave her hand a last squeeze and let it go. She wished to reach out and grab him again, but her arm disobeyed.

Garrus' breathing deepened, and Shepard could feel the anger radiate off him.

"You have care of her for a month, a whole month, and the best you can tell me is that she isn't dead _yet_?" He took a step towards where Miranda stood.

"Her injuries are extensive, we have done the best-"

"All you've been able to do in a _month_ is fix up a few broken bones? Give her some medigel, see if that works?"

"We have worked on her other-"

"WELL YOU HAVEN'T DONE ENOUGH!" Garrus threw what sounded a tray of glassware to the floor, allowing the broken shards to shatter across the floor. His breathing was heavy and glass crunched under his foot as he took another step in Miranda's direction. Her voice betrayed only the slightest tone of fear.

"What else could we have done? We have her monitored at all times, ensuring her condition doesn't worsen. No easy task, may I add. The missing cryogenics have played havoc with her heart function. There is nothing else we can do."

"You rebuilt her. She was dead, lost in space, and you put her back together again! She isn't even dead here, just broken, and you can't fix it?"

"That took two years, Garrus! Two years, unlimited resources, and the finest equipment imaginable! Earth is traumatised at the moment, supplies are almost nonexistent! I don't have nearly the same resources this time!"

"The Alliance can't provide the best care available for the woman who single-handedly saved the galaxy? Am I supposed to believe that?"

"Believe what you want, that's the situation. I'm doing the best with what I have. Do you not think I want her awake just as much as you do? She saved my sister, Garrus. The least I owe her is her life."

Garrus returned to Shepard's side and took her hand again. Shepard wanted to hold him close, show him the relief he felt that they were both alive, both there, together. Garrus' subvocals betrayed a murmur of grief.

"Can... do you think she can hear me?"

Miranda's lighter footsteps tiptoed over glass across the room to stand by the turian.

"I think it's no harm to talk to her. Just in case." She hesitated for a moment before turning and leaving the room.

Garrus stroked the back of Shepard's hand silently for several minutes. He cleared his throat as though to say something, then sighed. His voice was full of grief when he spoke.

"I didn't think I would ever see you alive again." He took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. "I lost you before. Before I knew how I felt about you, how you felt about me, but the loss was still there. That day, looking down my scope and seeing a dead woman running towards me is the single most wonderful moment of my life. I didn't want to ever feel that loss again."

His voice was quivering now, subvocals humming with despair.

"Only Shepard, only my Shepard would get hit by a Reaper's beam and keep on going. Spirits. Only my Shepard..." he trailed off.

Shepard fought against the weight keeping her skill, longed to move even just a finger, to be free from this pit. Her body refused to respond. Her heart rate slowly began to climb.

"Wake up, Shepard. I need you to wake up."

'Just move your hand!' Shepard pleaded with herself. 'Please, just twitch a finger!'Her heart beat faster with the mental effort.

"Do you remember when we spoke back in London? The plans we made? Spirits... Shepard, please wake up. I want to do those plans. I want that future. I want the kids, I want to leave this war behind, retire somewhere sunny and start a life with you."

The emotion was getting stuck in Shepard's throat. She wanted to rise from her bed and have this future with Garrus. Go somewhere warm and sunny to retire, adopt children and raise them with him. Meet his family. Have him meet hers. Her limbs refused to comply. Her heart rate rose. Garrus rose from her side and moved towards the machine. He lightly brushed her arm as he crossed to the door and left the room.

He returned a minute later with Miranda's familiar footsteps following. Shepard's heart beat furiously.

"Shit" Miranda said, pulling drawers open and clattering apparatus.

"What's wrong with her?" Garrus growled. He took Shepard's hand and held it tightly.

"Her heart has been struggling ever since she arrived here, this isn't the first time this has happened" Miranda said as she tore the cap of a syringe. "This usually works, but..."

Shepard felt cold flow up her veins, but her heart fought in spite of the drugs.

"Fuck" Miranda muttered as the machine beeped angrily. She ran to the door and shouted out into the hall for help. Footsteps immediately jumped to action, four different sets rushing into the room. Garrus gripped her hand, refusing to leave her as medics ushered him outside.

"Garrus, we need to work. Get out. We'll get you when we're finished" Miranda commanded. Her voice left no room for argument. Garrus gave Shepard's hand a last squeeze before reluctantly freeing it.

Shepard's heartbeat escalated as the medics went to work. Blood pumped in her ears, deafening her. She wanted Garrus by her again. She wanted her movement back. She felt her awareness slipping away, felt herself fall back into unconsciousness. Her breathing came quick and rough as her heart palpitated, blood thundering through her veins. She was slipping away, losing her hold on what was happening around her. Miranda's panicked voice grew dimmer. The pokes of medical equipment faded away. She fell away.

...

Shepard blinked.

She was in a bright room. She turned, dazzled. Thudding music played behind her. Before her was a large oak bar with a weary looking human behind it cleaning glasses. The booths around the room were filled with ghostly figures. She couldn't make out the details. She searched for Miranda, for Garrus. In the corner a shadow moved. A familiar figure, clad in purple emerged into the light. Tali crossed the floor and threw her arms around Shepard's still frame.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Shepard."


End file.
